


with a note that said i'll love him till i die

by BluebarrieMuzzins



Series: Around the League [19]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Crying, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Future Fic, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Alternating, Poetic Rain, Relapsing, Songfic, Suicide Notes, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings, and a lot of it, limited dialogue, rated m to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26981164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebarrieMuzzins/pseuds/BluebarrieMuzzins
Summary: He grabbed the piece of paper, swallowing thickly when he realized it had come into contact with Brock’s blood. Chris knew right then and there he should leave the paper alone and walk out of the room. It shouldn’t matter what it said anymore now that it was covered in blood. Chris ignored himself as he uncrumpled the paper.He felt himself brokenly gasp in much the same way Quinn had as he saw what was on the paper. He quickly crumpled the paper back up, not caring that he got his hand bloody. He threw the paper at Brock and hurried out of the room after his boyfriend, grateful that he and Quinn had been able to read the signs they had given each other.Tell Petey I’ll love him till I die.
Relationships: Alexander Edler/Jacob Markstrom (mentioned), Brock Boeser/Elias Pettersson, Elias Pettersson/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Quinn Hughes/Christopher Tanev, Thatcher Demko/Jake Virtanen
Series: Around the League [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666117
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	with a note that said i'll love him till i die

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my peeps! I know I have a chaptered Carter/Kevin thing that still needs to be finished. I promise I'll get on with that in the next few days. I was just struck by the idea to write this after hearing this come on Brock's Spotify playlist. And who am I to deny myself the chance to write something? I'm really sorry that it's an angsty trainwreck. the tone of the song itself is an angsty trainwreck so I was only trying to match it as best as I could. I hope you enjoy this trainwreck.
> 
> If you found this by Googling yourself, are in this yourself, or know someone in this, please click back. no harm was meant in the creation of this fic. It's fictional and created to go along with a song I listened to.
> 
> Based on "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss

**_BROCK BOESER_ **

“Brock, I’m getting married!”

Words that should be innocent; words that should bring joy. For anyone else that’s exactly what they would do. That’s not what they did for Brock. 

They brought him every negative emotion he could describe. This was because the person in question, Brock’s best friend, Elias, wasn’t marrying Brock. Brock was deeply in love with Elias and now he would never be able to do anything about it. Elias had broken his heart.

Brock spent the next two years trying to forget. The next two years drowning himself in a bottle whenever he got the chance. He wanted his mind thinking of anything but himself being the one standing beside Elias at the altar. 

No matter how much Brock drank, no matter how much he tried to forget, he never could get drunk enough to get rid of the pain. It always sat there, nibbling away at him, festering like a nasty infection. 

When the wedding day finally came, Brock had managed to not start drinking until the reception. He was three drinks in when he stumbled into Elias in the bathroom. 

Elias smiled and grabbed onto Brock’s waist to steady him. Brock would certainly blame what he did next on the alcohol in his veins. He surged forward and pressed his lips to Elias’. Elias didn’t pull back, instead, he pulled Brock closer to him and deepened the kiss. Brock panicked and stumbled backward into a bathroom stall.

Brock briefly glanced at Elias as he hurried out of the bathroom; Elias’ calls of Brock’s name went unanswered.

Brock stumbled his way out of the reception hall and onto the street. When he flagged down a cab and gave the driver his address, he slouched in the backseat. The driver glanced at Brock but remained quiet.

The entire ride back to his apartment, Brock cried into one of his fists. He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. He couldn’t believe he had let himself have what he promised himself he would never indulge in. He knew he would crave more and more; this one kiss would never be enough.

Brock gave the cab driver a rather substantial tip before he stumbled his way to his apartment. He slumped back against his door as soon as it closed behind him. He sat and sobbed until his body couldn’t sob anymore. 

He was exhausted when he stood and walked to the bedroom and opened his nightstand drawer. Brock hesitated when he reached into the drawer. He took a breath before he grabbed the gun and slammed the drawer shut. 

Brock sat on the edge of the bed and ran the gun along his thigh. He took a moment to breathe before he stood and walked across the room to his desk. He opened one of his notebooks and wrote a simple note on one of the pages before he ripped the page out and took it with him back to the bed.

Brock sat back on the bed and placed the piece of paper onto the nightstand. He made sure it was in plain view before he laid back on the bed. He pressed the gun to his temple, closed his eyes, took a breath, said a prayer, and pulled the trigger.

Elias was _finally_ off of his mind.

  
  


——~•~——

**_CHRIS TANEV_ **

Chris watched as Elias melted into the kiss and pulled Brock closer to him. Chris knew that Elias had wanted this to happen for _years._ Now that it finally was, Chris knew Elias would savour it.

Chris saw Elias jolt a little when Brock stumbled backward into a bathroom stall. Chris held his breath because Brock had stumbled into the stall he was in. He didn’t want to be caught and be seen as a creep. 

Chris barely caught the look of sheer terror on Brock’s face when he glanced at Elias and hurried out of the bathroom.

Elias called after Brock but no answer came nor did Brock return. Elias sighed and slumped back against the sink. Chris chose that moment to exit the stall. Elias jumped but softened when he saw that it was Chris. Chris walked over to Elias and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Elias smiled and ran a hand through his hair. When his hair caught on something, he tugged a little until his hand came free.

Elias stared at his hand and blinked. Chris gave Elias a look but all Elias did was point at the ring on his finger. That’s when Chris remembered where he was. He was at a wedding. _Elias’_ wedding. Elias had just kissed someone that wasn’t Astrid on his wedding day. 

The worst part was that Chris didn’t see any guilt in Elias’ expression or body language. When Chris asked, all Elias said was that he was happy he finally got to kiss the love of his life. Chris wasn’t surprised by those words. He had known for a long time that Elias wasn’t as in love with Astrid as he was with Brock. _Everyone_ knew that. Everyone except Brock and Astrid.

Chris sighed and made his way out into the reception hall. By some stroke of misfortune, the first person he ran into was Astrid. She noticed the fretful look on Chris’ face and squeezed his hand. Chris relaxed somewhat and squeezed her hand in return. She hummed and directed Chris to the dance floor to dance with everyone else. 

As Chris danced to a slow song with Quinn, he scanned the room. His heart fell sharply and his stomach gurgled with dread when he didn’t see Brock anywhere. Chris felt queasy the longer he danced and didn’t see Brock. Something felt wrong about all of this. Chris couldn’t put his finger on it but he felt like something bad had happened.

Quinn noticed the unease in Chris and tried to reassure his boyfriend that everything was alright. He told Chris that Brock was probably hiding from his feelings on the balcony like had been at Bo’s wedding. Chris relaxed at that, pressing a kiss to Quinn’s cheek. He was grateful for the fact that Quinn knew how to ground him when he became a stressed mess.

When he and Quinn finished dancing, Brandon rushed over to them. He frantically shoved Chris’ phone into his chest and waved his hand against his ear.

“Listen, Christopher. Please…”

Chris swallowed thickly and looked between his boyfriend and his brother. Brandon _never_ used his full name and all three of them knew it.

Chris placed the phone to his ear and felt his heart stop as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. It was Brock’s neighbour and she said she heard what sounded like a gunshot come from Brock’s apartment. Chris dropped his phone to the ground, mumbled something to Brandon, and ran out the door with Quinn following closely behind.

Chris was sure he had broken some land speed records on his drive to Brock’s apartment because of how worried he was. He was so worried that he didn’t bother knocking on Brock’s door. Quinn used the key Brock had given him and opened the door for himself and Chris.

Chris and Quinn frantically looked around the apartment, hoping that the gunshot was from a movie or television show. When they saw nothing on the television and Brock’s laptop nowhere in sight, they looked at each other with dread.

As they got closer to the bedroom, Chris’ nostrils were overpowered with the stench of blood. Chris said as much to Quinn and felt his stomach sink when Quinn affirmed that he smelled it too. They held each other’s hands as they burst into the bedroom. They froze when they saw what was on the bed.

Brock was laying stock-still, eyes and mouth closed. Chris would’ve assumed that Brock was sleeping if it hadn’t been for the bullet hole in his temple and the gun in his hand. 

Quinn rushed over to the bed; he rushed so fast that he nearly tripped over his feet in his haste. He shook Brock and said Brock’s name. When Quinn got no response, he did it again with more insistence. When there was no response for a second time, Quinn placed two fingers on the pulse point on Brock’s neck. All Quinn said he felt was lukewarm skin that felt like it was beginning to stiffen. No heartbeat. 

Quinn stumbled backward, pain evident on his face. In his haste, he knocked into Brock’s nightstand. The lamp that had been on it fell to the floor and shattered. The broken pieces scattered all across the floor near the bed. When Chris bent down to gather them up, he mentioned to Quinn that he saw a piece of paper between the nightstand and the bed. 

As Chris cleaned up the broken lamp pieces, Quinn wedged his hand between the opening beside the bed to grab the paper. By the time Quinn had managed to finagle the paper out, Chris had finished his cleanup job.

Chris stood beside Quinn as Quinn scanned what the paper said. After a moment of silence, Quinn let out a broken gasp before he crumpled the paper and threw it at Brock, rushing out of the room while reciting a prayer from the Torah.

Chris had turned to chase after Quinn. He made it halfway to the door before he stopped. He realized he didn’t see what the note had said. Part of him didn’t care because he knew he could get Quinn to tell him once he had calmed down. The other part of him, the morbid part of him, needed to see for himself. He sighed and made his way back to the bed.

He grabbed the piece of paper, swallowing thickly when he realized it had come into contact with Brock’s blood. Chris knew right then and there he should leave the paper alone and walk out of the room. It shouldn’t matter what it said anymore now that it was covered in blood. Chris ignored himself as he uncrumpled the paper.

He felt himself brokenly gasp in much the same way Quinn had as he saw what was on the paper. He quickly crumpled the paper back up, not caring that he got his hand bloody. He threw the paper at Brock and hurried out of the room after his boyfriend, grateful that he and Quinn had been able to read the signs they had given each other.

_Tell Petey I’ll love him till I die._

  
  


——~•~——

**_JAKE VIRTANEN_ **

At the funeral, Jake gave the eulogy because Elias was too distraught. Jake did his best to read all of it because Elias had written it and had included a Swedish remembrance prayer. None of the Swedes in attendance seemed upset or annoyed with Jake’s attempt at the pronunciations. Jake wasn’t sure if that was because he had improved with the language in the time he had been friends with the Swedes on the team or the fact that he was at a funeral.

When the service was over and everyone had said their goodbyes to Brock, Elias came up to Jake. He clung to his wife as if his life depended on it. Astrid seemed not to mind because Jake noticed that she was rubbing small circles into Elias’ back and mumbling soft Swedish to him.

Elias hugged Jake, thanked him for the eulogy, and cried into Jake’s shoulder. All Jake could do was hold his friend as he cried and rub his back much the same way Astrid had done. Jake mumbled soft encouragements to Elias in both English and his butchered attempt at Swedish. Elias relaxed a little when he pulled back from Jake’s embrace. He gave Jake a soft smile as he grabbed ahold of his wife’s hand and disappeared into the crowd of Brock’s friends, family, and teammates.

Jake felt awful for Brock, Elias and, Astrid. Jake knew that Elias and Brock had more than friendly feelings for each other and had for _years._ Everyone in the locker room knew it. Everyone except them. They seemed too caught up in their feelings that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them. Jake had wanted to intervene on so many occasions and tell the two of them the truth but neither would allow him to tell the other. Neither believed that the other had feelings for them. Elias was so in denial that he went and got himself a girlfriend that he ended up marrying. Which is why Jake felt bad for Astrid. Maybe Elias did love her. Maybe he married her for the right reasons. Jake would never know that. All Jake knew was that Astrid wasn’t the person Elias wanted and she never would be. The person Elias wanted had shot himself in the head because he couldn’t handle the fact that Elias had married someone else.

Bo came up to Jake after a few minutes and informed Jake that it was time to carry the casket to the hearse. Jake ran a hand down his face and nodded. He felt tears streak down his face as he lined up in his position to grab the handle. Bo, Elias, Quinn, Jacob, and Troy lined up with him. They all seemed to be in tears about having to do this. Elias was hyperventilating so horribly that Thatcher had to ask if they needed to switch out. Elias assured Thatcher, and the other five pallbearers, that he would be okay.

Jake glanced at Elias as they walked to the hearse. Elias was mumbling Swedish to no one in particular as he focused his attention forward. Jake smiled weakly as everyone walked down the steps of the church.

When the casket was in the hearse, Jake received another hug from Elias. He murmured his thanks to Jake and cried softly into Jake’s shoulder for the second time that day. Jake held Elias again and rubbed soothing circles into his back. Elias murmured another thanks before he hurried off to find Astrid. Jake smiled when Thatcher walked up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek.

It was at that moment that Jake felt guilty. He felt guilty because he had the relationship Brock and Elias had always wanted. Brock and Elias wanted to date each other because they had fallen in love with their teammate. They never got that chance because they were so far in denial that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them. Jake and Thatcher wanted to date each other because they had fallen in love with their teammate. They had gotten the chance because they could see what was right in front of them.

A moment later, Jake’s mother walked over with a baby in her arms. She handed her to Jake and gave her son a sympathetic smile as she squeezed his shoulder. She smiled at Thatcher and kissed the baby on the forehead before she walked away.

As Jake looked at Carmen, he felt even more guilty. He and Thatcher not only got to have the relationship with the teammate that Brock and Elias had desperately wanted, but they also got the child that Brock had always wanted.

Thatcher noticed Jake’s guilt and reassured him Brock and Elias had been incredibly happy for them. Jake softened at that. Brock had been the first one to offer help when Carmen was being fussy after first coming home from the hospital. Brock had been the one to teach Thatcher and Jake some tips for caring for a baby. Brock had given them some of his sister’s old baby clothes after acquiring permission from his parents. Brock had done so much for them when it came to Carmen. 

Jake didn’t feel guilty anymore. He felt destroyed. He leaned into Thatcher and cried as he held onto Carmen. Carmen would never know the person that had helped her dads so much with learning how to care for her. Never know the stupid jokes Brock told to brighten someone’s day. Never know his infectious smile. Never know his dorky laugh. Never know anything because he was gone.

Thatcher held Jake and let his husband cry on him. Jake cried long and hard as he felt Thatcher rub his hands soothingly along his back. He relaxed a little at that but the reality of the situation was still hitting him like a Shea Weber slapshot to gut. It left him in pain and struggling to breathe. His brain was swimming with emotions and he couldn’t sort any of them out; they were drowning him.

By the time Jake stepped back from Thatcher, everyone was getting into their cars to drive to Brock’s final resting place. Jake pressed a kiss to Thatcher’s forehead and mumbled something about Thatcher driving. Thatcher nodded and followed Jake to the car.

Jake buckled Carmen into her car seat before he got into the front. He grabbed Thatcher’s hand over the centre console and squeezed. Thatcher brought Jake’s hand up and kissed it. Jake relaxed and fell back against the seat.

The entire ride, Jake kept thinking about what might’ve been if Brock and Elias had told each other how they felt. What kind of life they would’ve had. How many kids Brock would’ve convinced Elias to have. How many dogs they would’ve had. Whether they would’ve lived in Canada, Minnesota, or Sweden once they retired from hockey. 

Jake and Thatcher had already agreed to live in Canada because they spent most of their time there as it was. Now that they had a daughter, it made even more sense to stay in Canada. Carmen would spend most of her time growing up there; Jake and Thatcher didn’t want to rip her away from the only thing she had ever known (if they could help it). 

On their first wedding anniversary, Thatcher surprised Jake by showing him his passport. His _Canadian_ passport. Jake hadn’t been aware that Thatcher was going for Canadian citizenship. Neither of them had brought it up because Jake was perfectly content with Thatcher remaining an American citizen with permanent residency status when he decided to retire to Canada. Seeing Thatcher’s Canadian passport made Jake burst into tears because he had never felt more loved by anyone than he had by his husband at that moment. 

Jake burst into tears as he thought about the fact that Brock couldn’t surprise Elias with a Swedish passport. He cried harder at the fact that Elias couldn’t surprise Brock with an American passport. He was borderline hyperventilating at the fact that they couldn’t surprise each other with Canadian passports. 

Thatcher drove into the parking lot of their destination and brought Jake’s hand up and kissed it a few times, whispering against it once the car was parked. Jake squeezed his eyes shut and willed them to stop leaking. He had no right to be this upset. He was happy with his life. He was happy with Thatcher and Carmen. He just wished things had been different. Wished Brock and Elias had got to have what he and Thatcher had. The marriage, the baby, the dogs; _everything._ He just wanted his friends to be happy. Not for one to be dead and one to be miserable because they couldn’t admit to each other that they were in love.

Jake had somewhat collected himself by the time everyone had gathered around the burial plot. It was underneath a giant willow tree at Brock’s favourite lake in Minnesota. His parents had pulled some strings to acquire permission to bury Brock here but they had ultimately received the approval of the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources as long as the headstone was nondescript.

Once everyone was in their seats, the minister gave a little sermon before she allowed everyone to drop a rose on Brock’s casket. Jake noticed that Elias looked ready to jump onto the casket when he placed his rose. That broke Jake’s heart and he whispered as much to Brock when he placed his rose. 

When everyone was done, the casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Jake clung to Thatcher. Thatcher held onto Jake as best he could because he had Carmen in his arms. Jake kissed Carmen’s forehead and whispered to her that she would’ve loved her Uncle Brock if she ever got the chance to meet him. Carmen cooed at that; Thatcher and Jake looked at each other, both starting to cry as they dropped their foreheads together.

Just then, a loud crack of thunder rumbled through the air. There was a brief moment of silence before another crack of thunder came followed by a downpouring of rain. Thatcher and Jake quickly ran to their car to keep Carmen dry. 

They didn’t bother to put Carmen in her car seat, deciding to wait until the rain let up. Thatcher held her on his lap in the front seat instead. Carmen gently sucked her thumb as she slept. 

Jake turned to Thatcher, a sorrowful expression on his face. He had a weak smile as he grabbed Thatcher’s shoulder. Thatcher looked up from Carmen and tilted his head at Jake. 

Jake sighed and motioned his head out the window.

“Seems fitting, no?”

  
  


——~•~——

**_ELIAS PETTERSSON_ **

Elias knew rumours were floating around the league. He had heard them from everyone on the team. They had told him that other players thought Brock was in love with Elias’ wife and couldn’t stand to see her with another man. They had said that other players said Brock was in love with Elias and couldn’t stand to see him with a woman. Hearing that one always made Elias’ stomach sink to his feet.

Elias always believed that Brock never felt the same way. He always believed that he was alone in his all-encompassing feeling for his best friend. He believed that until his wedding night. Believed that until Brock kissed him in the bathroom. Believed it until Quinn and Chris told him about the note they had found next to Brock’s body.

Now, Elias realized how stupid he had been for all of those years. What he wanted was right under his nose. He had just been too blind—and in denial—to see it.

He loved his wife, he did. She was an amazing person and an even better mother to Tequila, Milo, and Coolie. When Elias agreed to take on the care of Brock’s dogs after his death, he had been somewhat afraid that they wouldn’t like Astrid. Astrid’s personality was starkly different from either Brock’s or Elias’. Brock was rambunctious, often flamboyant. Elias was more reserved, though he was known to be uninhibited around Brock; Brock brought out the best in Elias. Astrid was quiet, often scarily so. She sometimes didn’t say anything for an entire day, instead choosing to indulge her time in video games or books. Elias found no qualms about that. He often played video games with her when he needed to escape from intrusive thoughts about Brock. It helped for the most part but some of the video games that Astrid liked to play were games that Brock would play with Elias. Video games that Brock would demolish Elias at. Those games were the ones he tried to avoid but he always found himself drawn into playing them. It always felt like Brock was with him when he did.

The dogs loved Astrid to death and Elias was grateful that he had her to watch them while he was away for hockey games. He was grateful that she took to be their mother so well. She did everything he could ever hope she would do for them—and then some. She just wasn’t the love of his life. The love of his life had shot himself because he was just as far in denial about his feelings as Elias had been.

That fact sat like a boulder in Elias’ stomach. It made him nauseous to the point of wanting to vomit every day. He blamed himself well beyond the point that he should for Brock’s death. No one close to him, not even Astrid, knew how _much_ he blamed himself. He did a spectacular job of hiding his feelings. He had to because he felt like it was his job to stay strong and show that he could handle the death of his best friend and (not so) secret love of his life.

As the years progressed, Elias found himself turning to the bottle for comfort. It was the only way to keep his mind away from Brock. It was the only thing that kept the pain away. The only thing that numbed him enough to help him sleep at night.

Astrid stayed with him through everything, even going so far as to get Elias into a rehab program. Elias reluctantly went along with it. The last thing he wanted was to give up the only way that worked to fix his pain. When he came out the other side sober, and without the urge to drink anymore Elias was proud of himself. He had accomplished something that he didn’t think was possible.

He kept away from the alcohol for a few more years. Proud of himself the entire time because he had found healthier ways to cope with his feelings about Brock. His favourite of which being painting.

He had painted along to a few Bob Ross tutorials, finding that they helped him release some of his negative energy. They became his pre-game ritual. Right before his nap, he would paint along to whichever painting tutorial looked the most relaxing for that day. He would often give the paintings to his teammates as a show of his sobriety. They knew that if they got a painting, it meant that Elias was staying away from the bottle.

Then the Canucks won the Stanley Cup. The team sprayed soda and sparkling water around the locker room. They drenched each other in chocolate sauce and maple syrup instead of beer and champagne. Elias was extremely grateful for that. He loved his team for being supportive of him.

The first thing Elias did when he left the arena for the night was stop by the liquor store and buy a case of Brock’s favourite beer. Elias wasn’t normally one to drink beer (his drink of choice had been Swedish punsch) but he would make an exception. He had just won the Stanley Cup and Brock hadn’t been there to win it with him like they had promised each other they would. He needed _something_ to feel close to Brock. Drinking Brock’s favourite beer was the first thing he could think of to accomplish that, his sobriety be damned.

When he got home, he was thankful that Astrid had taken the dogs to visit Brock’s parents in Minnesota. They all knew Elias was about to win the Stanley Cup but they all knew Milo and Coolie needed to see their grandparents more. It had been far too long since their last visit and Duke was getting worse with his Parkinson’s. He needed to see the dogs before it was too late.

The first thing Elias did when he got home was call Astrid. She answered the phone in tears. She was congratulating him and telling him how proud of him she was. A brief moment of silence passed before Duke was on the phone. His words were garbled because of how advanced his Parkinson’s had become but Elias managed to understand most of what he had been told. Laurie was quickly put on the line and she gave just as many congratulations and tears that Astrid had. Elias felt tears fall down his face as the dogs were put on the line. All three yipped and barked their excitement before Astrid came back.

“Brock would be so proud, älskling.”

Elias couldn’t form any words. He only replied with a broken sob and disconnected the call. He dropped the phone onto the kitchen counter before he walked into the bedroom with the beer.

He ripped into the case and opened a can, chugging it as fast as he could. The taste of it burned his throat; it had been far too long since he had consumed any form of alcohol. It felt both refreshing and heartbreaking to be doing it again. He had ripped open a fully healed scar and he knew there was no turning back now, no matter how much he wanted to stop. He knew once he started drinking, he wouldn’t stop until he deemed himself to be drunk.

He repeated the action with three more cans before he started to feel woozy. He reached for another can but stopped himself. He decided that four cans were enough. Four cans were enough to give him the courage to do what he wanted to do.

Elias put the case aside and wobbled to the dresser. Sitting on top was a picture of him and Brock from the first time Elias went to Minnesota during the summer. They were under that infamous willow tree, holding fishing rods and wearing stupid bucket hats. 

Elias grabbed the picture before opening his sock drawer and fishing around inside of it. It took a minute before his hand came out with a gun. He wobbled back to the bed and laid down.

He clutched the picture to his chest and pressed the gun to his temple. He closed his eyes and said a prayer in Swedish before he pulled the trigger.

He _finally_ got to be with the love of his life.

  
  


——~•~——

**_BO HORVAT_ **

Bo had gone over to Elias’ house the next morning to invite Elias out for a celebratory team breakfast. He was awash with excitement as he knocked on the door. Bo was surprised when it opened against his touch. He poked his head in and called Elias’ name. When he got no response, he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him.

He walked around the house and found Elias’ phone in the kitchen. It was nearly dead but it was full of unanswered texts from friends and family. Most of them were congratulations for winning the Cup. Bo found that odd. Elias never left messages unanswered if he could help it. He hated having a million message notifications on his phone and would always reply to them as fast as he could to get rid of them.

Bo continued walking around the house before he noticed that Elias’ bedroom door was open. He found that odd as well. He knew that Elias always slept with the door closed. It was some sort of superstitious habit Elias had from when he was younger. 

Bo exhaled nervously as he walked into the bedroom.

The first thing Bo saw was the case of beer on the floor. The case of Brock’s favourite beer. He cursed as he walked over to it. It had four cans missing. He looked around the room and saw the cans scattered about the floor, empty. He shook his head. He had suspected that winning the Cup would be too much for Elias to handle. Bo should’ve sent someone home with Elias.

When Bo looked at Elias’ bed, he froze. He saw Elias laying in the middle of it. Elias was clutching a picture frame. The frame had a picture of Brock and Elias in it. A picture from Elias’ first trip to visit Brock’s parents during the summer. Bo felt his heart sink into his feet. Bo then saw a bullet hole in Elias’ temple and a gun in his other hand. 

Bo rushed to the bed and shook Elias as hard as he could. When he got no response, he did it again. He knew it was futile but he kept shaking Elias and screaming.

“Goddammit, Petey! Wake up!”

After what felt like an eternity, Bo stopped because his arms had become sore. He punched Elias in the chest and dropped to the floor. He sat there and cried as he thought about what had happened. 

He had lost not only one, but both of his star forwards because they were so in denial about the other having feelings for them that they wouldn’t admit their feelings. Bo wanted to scream into the void and ask why this had happened to Brock and Elias. They were both good kids with good hearts. They were just misguided with their perception of the other’s affection for them.

As Bo stood and walked out of the room to call for help, he realized something important.

Bad things happen to good people. 

  
  


——~•~——

**_TROY STECHER_ **

Troy lined up along the casket to help carry it to the hearse. Jacob, Bo, Quinn, Thatcher, and Jake lined up alongside him. All of them were distraught as they carried it through the church, out the door, and down the stairs. 

When it was in the back of the hearse, Troy noticed that Jake clung to Thatcher as if his life depended on it. Troy felt his heart shatter at that. Troy knew how guilty Jake felt over Brock’s death. He could only imagine how guilty he felt about Elias’. 

A flash of blonde pigtails ran by Troy a moment later, dragging a grumbling mess of red curls in a tiny suit behind her. Troy paused as he watched them run up to Thatcher and Jake. Thatcher picked up Carmen and Jake scooped Brock into his arms. Troy felt at peace with the fact that Thatcher and Jake chose to honour Brock by naming their son after him. 

As Troy made his way to his car, he saw Alex leaning into Jacob’s chest and sobbing. Jacob was cradling Alex and carding his finger through Alex’s hair. Troy had always suspected that they were together but had never pushed it because it wasn’t his place to pry.

Jacob caught Troy’s eye and hesitantly smiled. Troy nodded and smiled back. Troy noticed that Jacob’s shoulders relaxed as he pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. Troy felt his heart stammer as he finished walking to his car.

Troy let all of his emotions out as he sat in the driver’s seat. Everything he had been feeling since the death of Brock came tumbling out. He missed Brock. He missed his stupid bucket hats. He missed his stupid country music. He missed his stupid laugh. He missed his stupid smile. He missed _everything_ about Brock.

Even though it had only been a week, he missed Elias. He missed his stupid resemblance to an alien. He missed his wicked-stupid fashion sense. He missed his stupid jokes. He missed his stupid Swedish music. He missed _everything_ about Elias.

Troy missed his friends and he wasn’t ever getting them back. All because they had been too stupid to see what had been right in front of them. 

Troy gathered his feelings just in time to drive to Elias’ final resting place. He managed to stay collected the entire drive. Managed to stay collected as he pulled into the parking lot. Managed to stay collected as he walked up to the willow tree. He only lost it again when he saw Astrid sitting with Brock’s family. When he saw how heartbroken they all looked, Troy couldn’t stop himself from bursting into tears and slumping against the back of the willow tree, away from the gathering of people.

He vaguely tuned into the minister giving her sermon. Vaguely tuned into her telling everyone to grab a flower and place it on Elias’ casket. Troy made his way back around to the front of the tree and grabbed a rose and stood in the line of people.

As he got closer to the front, he noticed that Astrid didn’t look as distraught as Elias did during Brock’s funeral. She didn’t look ready to jump onto the casket. She looked peaceful, almost happy. Troy didn’t find that odd. He had suspected for a long time that Astrid knew that Brock was the love of Elias’ life. He suspected that Astrid was at peace with the fact that Elias could finally be with the one that mattered most to him. He could finally be happy. Even if it meant he had to do it in Heaven.

After Troy placed his rose on the casket, he went over to Astrid. She smiled sympathetically at Troy’s condolences, hugging him as thanks. Troy hugged back before he went to sit in one of the folding chairs by the lake.

Just as he sat down, a loud crack of thunder echoed through the air. Troy smiled faintly as Jake tapped him on the shoulder. Troy looked over and saw Jake and Thatcher looking at him sympathetically; Carmen was in Thatcher’s lap and Brock was in Jake’s. 

Another loud crack of thunder echoed through the air followed by a downpour of rain. 

Carmen and Brock smiled and giggled, throwing the rain back and forth at each other. Thatcher politely told them to stop with the reason that a funeral wasn’t the place to do that. They both apologized and stopped what they were doing. Troy smiled weakly at how well-behaved the children were as Jake tapped his shoulder again. 

As the rain continued to fall in thick sheets, Jake smiled faintly at Troy and motioned to where Elias’ casket was being lowered into the ground next to Brock.

“Seems fitting, no?”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Anyone that knows why I chose the name I did for Thatcher and Jake's daughter gets 5 virtual cookies. Leave a comment and I'll reply with 5 cookie emojis if you got the right answer. Nothing else. Just 5 cookie emojis. I like being ominous like that.
> 
> Also. If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading this!! I know this fic was a mess of emotions so I appreciate that you actually sat through and read the whole thing. 
> 
> Since Brock and Petey commited suicide over the fact that they never told each other they loved them, how about you go and tell someone that you love them? It doesn't have to be for any particular reason. Just tell someone that matters to you how you feel about them. Something like that can really help make a person feel less alone and help them feel like they matter to someone. Don't be like Brock and Elias. Tell someone how you feel before it's too late.
> 
> If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, there is help available for you. 
> 
> Canada
> 
> [Crisis Services Canada (English)](https://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/en/)  
> [Services de crises du Canada (Français)](https://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/fr/)
> 
> USA
> 
> [National Suicide Prevention Lifeline](https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/)
> 
> UK
> 
> [Crisis Text Line UK](https://www.crisistextline.uk/)
> 
> Australia
> 
> [Lifeline Australia](https://www.lifeline.org.au/)


End file.
